


Hail to the King, Baby

by Nokomis



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nokomis/pseuds/Nokomis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zombies happen. Puck handles it. Sorta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hail to the King, Baby

At first Puck didn’t even notice anything weird was going on. Then he realized that the hockey team wasn’t shuffling around because they were brainless morons, they were shuffling around because they were _brainless_. He had to do something.

He caught sight of Coach Sylvester swinging a fire extinguisher successfully against a group of undead Cheerios as he raced down the hall. He went to the rehearsal room first, hoping Quinn and Finn would be there, but all he found was Jacob Ben Israel gnawing uselessly at the leg of the piano.

Puck was a badass, though. He knew how to handle shit like this. He did a karate kick in Jacob Ben Israel’s general direction, threw a chair dramatically, and locked the zombie in the rehearsal room.

“Hi?”

Puck whirled around, fists up in case of danger. Sam threw his hands up and said, “I saw that you weren’t dead and thought we should team up. It’s what all the superheroes do in an apocalypse.”

Sam clearly understood the truly important rules of the universe. Puck nodded. “I was looking for weapons and girls.”

“Noble,” Sam said. “Assuming you aren’t planning on using girls as weapons.”

“Only if we find Santana,” Puck replied. “Bitch could glare the undead into submission.”

“Duly noted. Recruit Cheerios to death-glare duty,” Sam said, pretending to write it down.

Puck’s slushie-hand twitched a little at such a blatant display of dorkitude, but he ignored it. There were more important things to do. “Let’s go get some hockey sticks to beat these zombies with.”

As it turned out, zombies didn’t react well to being whacked with hockey sticks. Puck agreed when Sam suggested a tactical retreat, though the fact that the most convenient hiding location between the hockey field and _anywhere else that didn’t include a ravening horde of the undead_ was the dumpster.

“Come on!” Sam hissed, popping his unnaturally blond head up above the rim. “Get in so we can shut the lid.”

Puck looked back at the horde. It was shambling in their general direction, and it looked pissed.

Puck hopped into the dumpster.

“It smells better outside with all the rotting corpses,” Puck immediately announced.

Sam slid open one of the grates to let in a sliver of sunlight and fresh air, and managed to settle himself in comfortably.

Puck glared at his surroundings. It wasn’t badass to hide in a dumpster while there was a zombie apocalypse going on. He thought about asking Sam if he’d seen Quinn, but decided he just didn’t want to know. So for a while he and Sam just compared their guns and talked through some Romero strategy, but the horde still lingered outside the dumpster.

Puck sighed. “This sucks. End of the world and there isn’t even any making out going on.”

“Okay,” Sam said agreeably, and Puck was trying to figure out what he’d agreed to when Sam kissed him.

Puck debated pushing him away for a second, but the Puckzilla was a stud and couldn’t very well not get in on some oh-shit-gonna-die make outs. Besides, Sam’s hand was on his belt _already_ and if Finn was still alive, Puck was totally going to win twenty bucks from him since he’d bet once that Puck totally couldn’t get laid in a dumpster.

The zombies were still moaning outside, but Sam knew what he was doing.

Apocalypse sex was _awesome_.


End file.
